What does Daryl Dixon fear?
by Usndanielle01
Summary: Nora is on the run from Terminus when she runs straight into Rick and what seems like even more trouble of a completely different kind. (Short story now, but might turn into something bigger!)
1. Chapter 1

**A.N: So, this will be a short story with the very real possibility of turning into something bigger if I get enough following on it. me know what you think and how you like the chapters, reviews are a must! Enjoy! -D**

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"So, what does Daryl Dixon fear?",

I ask slyly, twirling the small dagger in my hand. Looking back, my caramel eyes bore into his navy blue ones, and I just can't help the smirk that plays on my lips. Daryl looks up to me from his place in the heap of old quilts, giving his head a slight shake before snaking his muscular arm around my waist, pulling our bodies together once more.

"There ain't a damn thing I'm scared of anymore." He replies gruffly, letting my head fall into the crook between his neck and shoulder. My fingers trace the outline of a small tattoo on his bare chest, and I hear his heart beating underneath. The rhythm is strong and steady, and as we lay there in comfortable silence, my mind wanders to how the hell I, or better yet _WE_, ever let this happen. It goes against every code I've made for myself. In these times, no one can afford to get this close to anyone. No, it's just too risky. Of course I know this, I know all it will ever lead to is pain and heartache, yet, my body's wants have somehow overruled my brain and well, here we are.


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N: Alright chapter two is actually getting into Nora's story line. Clearing up any confusion, chapter one was set in the future! Tell me what you think! -D **

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"Nora! Stop!"

I hear a deep voice shouting from behind me, but my legs keep moving, my boots pounding the earth beneath me as my lungs burn for more oxygen. I can't stop though. No way, not now, that would mean death, or much worse. A bullet screams by just barely missing my leg and I quickly change direction, dodging and zigzagging between trees, my eyes straining to find a safe place, any place to hide

-_C'mon Nora, think. You can't run forever._ My mind screams at me, along with every muscle fiber in my body_._

I continue to run for another hundred yards or so, before I see my opportunity. A tree with a branch hanging low enough for me reach. Giving a very short glance over my shoulder, I don't see my pursuers but my ears can still make out the far off crunching of leaves and the faint gunfire further beyond that. Barely sliding to a halt at the trunk, I jump, feeling the rough bark beneath my palms before hauling the rest of my body onto the branch. From there, I climb quickly into the cover of the leaves, moving as quick as I dare until I'm sure I'm nearing the top.

Sitting in a small niche between the trunk and a large branch, I bring my shaking hands to my mouth, urging my ragged breathing to slow.

"Let's go, man. If Garreth finds out the bitch got away, he'll kill us both." I hear one of my attackers say to the other, and my heart twinges at the familiar voice. Through the leaves, I see the two men who had been my friends when I was brought into Terminus. And now, they were trying to kill me, because I found out what kind of monsters they really were. I watch as they jog right past my hiding place, continuing on a straight path, one with a pistol and the other holding an assault rifle. I sit in the tree for few more minutes, long after they had disappeared into the forest before I make my way down.

When I finally reach the soggy ground, I double over, my stomach purging what little food that was left in there. My mind couldn't seem to wrap itself around what was happening and apparently neither could my body, it wanted to get rid of as much of that God awful place just as badly as my brain wanted to forget it. Wiping my mouth on the sleeve on my hoodie, I pull the hunting rifle from my back, making sure it hadn't gotten damaged. To my dismay, my machete and pistol were both sitting in my room, leaving me with only the long range rifle and a small dagger that hung from my belt.

"Damn it all to hell." I mutter, slinging the firearm across my shoulders once more, looking to my left and then my right, wondering which would be the best bet. I remembered watching the group from the train car run towards the left gate when shit hit the fan, but after Garreth had given the orders for my containment, I hadn't really had the time to check in on them. I search the ground for a moment, looking for any kind of disturbed terrain but the wind rustled leaves yield no viable clues, leaving only gut instinct, and a little bit of hope, to will my body to the left.

I walk in silence, taking in the sights and sounds, for what seems like hours but when I look at my watch, I'm surprised it's only been a little over an hour and I still haven't found any kind of land mark to center myself except the sun. And the sun itself was quickly becoming overwhelmed by the boiling, inky black clouds that threatened to the give way at any moment.

_-Alright, shelter. It's not cold right now, but walking around soaking wet isn't the best idea_. I think to myself, once again searching for any kind of place that I could wait out the impending storm in relative safety. From the weather, biters, and humans.

The wind picks up substantially, whipping my sun-bleached blonde curls painfully across my cheeks, and causing the tree tops to sway and creak, as if the entire forest itself was getting ready to come alive around me. I feel a solitary rain drop hit my nose, and I know I'm quickly running out of time as I begin to jog towards a clearing in the maze of pines.

Pulling the black hood over my head, and kneeling down in a brush thicket, I pull the rifle off my aching shoulder and peer into the scope. Through the magnified glass, I see a ramshackle cabin, overgrown and barely noticeable due to the thick kudzu that has taken up residence, camouflaging nearly half of the small house under it's unruly vines. Yet, it was perfect to me. I saw absolutely no sign that anyone, living or otherwise, had touched this place. Hell, maybe since this whole thing started. I pan the rifle to the left, seeing nothing unusual, and then to the right, which yields the same undisturbed view. After standing, I shoulder my weapon and ease away from my cover, listening intently through the wind and watching the surrounding forest carefully until I arrive at the back doorstep.

I kick the door three times, and wait. Wait for any signs of life to come from within, wait for any signs of biters lurking as well, and when I'm satisfied with the silence, I turn the old brass knob slowly. The old door squeals open on rusted hinges, and I cringe, holding my breath before entering the dim space in front of me. My eyes adjust to the darkness after a few seconds and I take in my new, very dusty, surroundings. In one single room, I found the approximation of a living room, dining room, bedroom, and kitchen all crammed into the tiny space. Yet, it was homey, in an odd and back woodsy kind of way. There were a couple of deer heads mounted on either side of the old TV, a battered tan couch with a warm looking blanket thrown, haphazardly, over the arm, and a big plaid recliner that definitely looked inviting.

The 'kitchen' was more like a set of cabinets, with a one-eye gas burner hooked up on one end, a dirty microwave on the other, and a stainless steel sink settled in the middle which had become the home to a rather large cobb spider. Finally, nestled in the corner was a twin size bunk bed, and a small dresser decorated with an antique of a lamp. As I walk around the small space, I hear the wind howling through the pines outside and a crack of thunder seems to shake the entire house.

Making my way to the back, I find a single door, after giving the piece of cedar a good kick, I lean close, listening for anything at all but am answered with nothing. Turning the knob, the old door reveals a simple bathroom. A white pedestal sink, toilet, and a very tight, definitely one person shower takes up the entirety of the room. I all but sprint to the shower, swatting away cobwebs and reach for the faucet,

"_Please_ let there be running water, please!" I beg quietly, turning the dingy chrome handle.

As the water purges itself from the long since used pipes, I squeal in amazement. Rusty red at first, the water clears up and just as I begin jumping up and down from the excitement, something even more incredible happens. The water grows warmer until it's practically billowing steam from the tiny bathroom.

"Thank you, Lord!" I announce loudly, reluctantly turning the piping hot water off, forcing myself to wait until after the storm to take the much needed shower. Even though things were safe, and close to normal at Terminus, the water had never gotten above room temperature. And that was on a good day, so the thought of steaming water brought a smile to my stained face as I exited and made my way to the kitchen.

Rummaging through the drawers and cabinets, I come up with a can of Pork-N-Beans, some rather stale saltine crackers, a box of matches, and few candles which had been used before. I'm sure on just this kind of day, as well.

- _Well, probably without the dead walking around, but close enough._ My mind snidely comments, always bringing me back to reality.

After lighting the candles, I turn my attention to the one pot gas cook top. My brain forming the connection that the little cabin had it's own propane tank somewhere, buried beneath the kudzu no doubt, as a flame neatly came to life underneath the metal grate. Stabbing my dagger through the metal lid of the canned beans, I sit it directly over the flame, not bothering to find a pot, finding myself much too tired and hungry to care. As the beans begin to heat up, I move to the dresser, in hopes of finding a decent change of clothes but only uncovering a mans camouflage shirt and a few pair of sweatpants.

Rocking back on my heels, I plop down on the cedar planks beneath me and pull my worn combat boots off. Sighing as the fresh, cool air breezed over the angry blisters, I gently rub them for a moment, thankful to stretch my toes out as I pull myself up. After grabbing a small rag from the sink, I retrieve my dinner from the stove and pull a spoon from one of the few drawers before lowering myself into the big recliner. Trying to savor the delicious sweetness, I eat every bit slowly and deliberately, stopping only to fill my canteen with water before continuing. After polishing off half the crackers, I find myself staring at the candle I sat on top of the TV. Watching the flame flicker and dance to no discernible beat, exhaustion takes over as my eyes grow heavy and my body begins to numb and my brain becomes muddled and sleep finally draws me away from the world.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey Fanfictioners! SOO, I've had good views but ZERO reviews or follows! I'm heartbroken /3 I do hope you enjoy the rest of the story though, reviews are wonderfully appreciated! I need a lot of work, I know and your comments can help! -D**

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"_Shit_!" I exclaim, gasping loudly as I fall out of the recliner, hitting the floor with a solid thud. Scrambling to my feet, I pull my dagger out, my eyes searching wildly for any sign of danger until I realize where I'm at. I put the knife away, shaking my head, "It was a dream. Just a damn dream." I mumble, brushing the dust from my jeans.

Wandering to the window, I run trembling hands over my arms in an attempt to chase the chills away, from the damp air as well as the fleeting remnants of my nightmare. The storm has long since passed, leaving the yard and surrounding woods in a twisted, mangled mess. And with our brightest star just barely beginning to rise on the eastern horizon, I feel a sense of calm settle over me as I watch the once pristine pine forest begin to come alive again. The eerie silence is soon replaced with the melodies of song birds and chatter of various critters as they break cover, going on with their daily routine.

A yawn escapes my lips as I turn away from the peaceful view, grabbing a pair of sweat pants and the ,much too big, shirt out of the tiny dresser. Silently scolding myself for not having time to grab more of my own clothing, I strip away the dirt caked jeans and toss them to the side, followed by the black hoodie and green tank top underneath. Stepping into the bathroom, I stop in front of the small mirror perched just above the equally as small sink. My blonde curls spring out in every direction, twigs and dirt sticking out here and there, the dark circles under my eyes seem to have only gotten worse and the hollows beneath my cheek bones appear more defined than I remember. With golden brown irises staring back at me critically, I can't stop them from brimming with tears as it really hits home that things are worse than I had ever thought they could be.

-_No, now is not the time to cry. Crying doesn't solve anything, it's time to move on_. My, always too-rational, brain sneers back at me.

Giving a weak nod of my head before wiping a stray tear from my cheek, I turn the faucet all the way over to hot. The shower head gives a tired moan before coming to life, and like the day before, I begin to feel a certain giddiness, I haven't felt in a very long time, chasing away the pity, leaving me overwhelmed as I step into the jetstreams of water. With the temperature just below scalding, I really could stand here forever, letting the past few days wash right off my skin. I scrub my hair, and my body until it feels raw and new, before finding myself simply standing in the steaming waterfall, unable to force my body away from this new found little slice of Heaven.

Yet, all good things must come to an end, as life seems to never let me forget, and I wrap the blanket around myself, my teeth chattering now. Quickly, my legs find their way into the gray sweatpants, which I'm forced to tie the sides just to keep them from securely on my hips, and the camoflage shirt that nearly drowns me in fabric, but for the first time in forever I feel comfortable. And after opening the windows and doors, feeling the fresh breeze caress my skin as the birds lyrical whistling fills my ear, a small smile graces my lips.

-_I could really make it out here._

With the thought now flooding my mind, I open one of the few cabinet doors in search of anything to put my growling stomach as ease. _-Definitely need to go hunt or on a run soon, though._ My brain ticks off at me, I do know it's true but I hadn't been out of Terminus nearly the whole four months I was there, and didn't have the slightest clue as to where the nearest safe town might be. I would need a map, something that could give me any oversight as to which way I should even begin looking.

"I'll look around today, problem fixed." I say to myself, in an attempt to shut my nagging thoughts up, if only for a few minutes and it seems that between planning out today and trying to find something edible, I missed the most amazing thing I think I've ever had the chance to come by after the world went to hell.

"Holy shit,_ actual_ SPAM!?", I exclaim, almost too loudly, before yanking the oddly shaped can from it's place beneath the dusty shelves.


	4. Chapter 4

With my stomach bloated from eating almost half the block of Spam, I cook the rest of it, wrapping it in an old piece of aluminum foil that had at one point held something in the fridge, but it served my needs better. And with my lunch put away safely, I begin rummaging through everything I hadn't went through initially, starting my recon mission for a map, even though my very full stomach is screaming for a nap right now.

After nearly two hours of looking and crawling through every inch of the little cabin, I finally come across a beat up, well used map, causing a small bolt of accomplishement to surge through me. Yet, when I see that the nearest town is almost twenty-five miles away, my heart hits the floor. On foot, that's an entire day of walking through the woods. _Alone._

And just like that, my lungs stop functioning and the room starts spinning and my heart begins to race. _Alone._ That one word hits me like a freight train. _Alone_. Because, I guess, my brain has just now realized how truely, frighteningly, and thoroughly alone I am now. No one to have to my back, no one to talk to, no one to help me. Nope, not a soul. Without even noticing, I've crawled myself into a corner. Rocking back and forth, my head settled between my legs, because I really don't want to know what Spam tastes like when it's comes back the other way.

-_Nora, stop. Breathe. You've been alone before, this is no different. You'll adapt like you always do. Overcome like you have to. You can't chase the rabbit again, no more falling down the hole. You won't make it back this time_. My mind repeats itself soothingly, until I am finally able to look back up and realize that the room isn't spinning anymore. And that my lungs work just fine. And to feel that my heart is beating at a more normal rythm now.

Brushing the dust off, I climb back to my feet on shaky legs, thankful that at least they work now, and make my way to the recliner. In no time, the sheer exhaustion of my panic attack takes it's toll and I'm settled into a deep, bottomless sleep.

"Mama, watch this!", my little girl says to me, and I watch her gracefully turn flips on the big trampoline. I clap and smile, taking in her blonde curls and the deep dimples that appear when she smiles, just like mine. With the sun blazing high in the sky, I look around and notice the green grass and tall fence the leads to the big white house._ My_ house.

I turn back to watch her for a moment longer, before walking through the big french doors that open up into the dining room. "Jack?" I call out, waiting for my fiance to appear. When he doesn't, I venture further through my home, stopping at the master bedroom door. Pressing my ear against the cool wood, I hear nothing within, and cautiously turn the knob, "Jack?" I say again, stepping into the bright room.

"In here, babe." A huge smile crosses my lips as his familiar voice lingers over me. Oh how I've missed the deep, raspy tones. I run to the closet, and there he is, my highschool sweetheart. His blue eyes dancing in the light, dark hair a mess on top of his head and my heart swoons as he flashes me a bright smile before pulling me into a hug.

"I miss you, Nora." Jack says sweetly, kissing the top of my head. I crane my neck, planting my lips firmly on his.

"Jack, you have no idea. I dream about you and Claire all the time. I-I wish you were with me still." I reply, buring my head into his muscular chest,feeling hot tears forming in my eyes.

He pulls me back, meeting my eyes with determination, "You can be with us, Nora. We need you here. It's too easy, my love." He says, matter of factly and I can't stop the longing that has gripped me, longing to stay here and be with my first love and our daughter forever. Not having to miss them anymore.

"J-Jack, no. I, I- can't do that. You know I can't." I shake my head slowly, my voice choking on sobs. His blue eyes grow sad, and his smile loses its luster before he turns away.

"Then go." Jack says, an unsettling tone in his voice.

"What?" I ask, staring at his back incredulously.

Before I can even take a step back, he's in my face, and he's not my Jack anymore. This man now is angry, and his face is hollow and void of emotion and life, "_GO! GET OUT_!" He yells, causing the whole room to tremble and quake beneath my feet, until the floor completely gives way and I'm falling. Falling into an incky darkness that all but sucks the air from my lungs and the beats from my heart.

My eyes blink open, and I feel the moisture on my face from the tears I had thought were only apart of my dream. Staring up at the ceiling, I feel my heart pounding under my skin as I can still hear Jack's voice ringing through my head. And see the sun reflecting off Claire's bouncing curls. This is exactly what I didn't need to happen, I don't need the temptation. I need to stay here, and survive, because I know that's what _my_ Jack would want. He would want me to fight, and carry on his legacy along with our daughter, because she never got the chance to. He would never want to lay down and give up. No, he knows I'm stronger than that. Yet, it still doesn't stop my chest from aching everytime I think of them, which is around the clock. If I didn't have their memory, I would have nothing to live for. Nothing to keep me going-

I jump out of the chair, my painful thoughts cut short by the all too familiar snapping of twigs and crunching of leaves. Crawling to the window, I crouch, just barely peering over the window sill.

"Shit! Shit, shit, _shit_." I breathe quietly at the sight of maybe fifteen biters stumbling right for the little shack, give or take a few. I scurry to shove my feet into the black boots, and grab my rifle from the table. Giving up on trying to stay hidden, I rush to close the doors and windows, before grabbing a bag from the bunk bed as I begin to shove the remainder of the canned food, map, and whatever else I could grab before sprinting to the back door.

As the door squeals tiredly, I slip through, jumping off the porch before tearing through the woods. I don't spare a glance back to the old house, but I silently thank the Lord for letting me stumble upon it. I continue to jog for another twenty minutes before stopping to catch my breath, and the forest around me seems almost too quiet as I take a sip from my canteen, relishing the sweet water. Looking around, my body begins to flood with adrenaline, sensing that something just isn't right about this place and I'm glad it decided to give me a heads up, because only a couple seconds pass before a loud gurgling growl comes from behind me followed by the unmistakable feeling of unaturally cold, digusting hands grabbing at my arm, pulling me towards it's teeth. Towards my death, essentially. And I laugh at the irony, before pulling my dagger out, impaling the son of bitch straight through it's cloudy, rotten eye.

Yet, before I can celebrate my escape properly, I hear the distinct gutteral moans once again surrounding me. Digging my boots into the earth, I push off, stretching my legs further than they want to go, and pushing my lungs hard as I find myself once again dodging and ducking and sliding through the trees, trying to get out of the confusing maze because I have no idea if I'm just running around in circles right now or making actual progress.

"Ugh! _Ow_!" I shriek as slam into something solid, the air forced from my chest by the impact.

"What the hell?" A deep voice exclaims, pulling me up by the collar of my shirt like a scolded child.

I still can't breath, but I have to warn the man, try to at least,

"B-B-Bi.." I start, and the damn word is just stuck there on my tongue like a broken record, "_Biters_!"

Finally, the warning burst through my lips and the bearded man pulls me behind him before giving a shrill whistle and pulling a pistol from the back of his jeans. I climb to my feet, dagger in hand, but the man turns around,his light blue eyes boring into mine, "Don't move." He says, and I can't deny the authority in his voice, so I situate myself behind a tree, nearly screaming as I see another man before me. A crossbow meerly inches from my face.


	5. Chapter 5

"Look. I don't know why you have me tied me up, I was on _your_ side at Terminus!" I yell, a grimace coming to my lips as the rope burns deeper into my wrist the more I struggle, "I almost got killed because of y'all."

The crossbow wielding man spits to the side before kneeling down in front of me, "Shut up, blondie. We'll deal with you soon enough." He says, a gravely rasp to his southern accent.

The man maintains eye contact for a few moments longer, as if he was trying to read my mind, and I see an animalistic gleam in his dark blue eyes. I remember that gleam in Jack's eyes towards the end, and it sends a chill down my spine until I break the connection, looking back as he turns and walks away to where the bearded man is huddled with a large red-headed man, a petite brown haired girl wearing shorts, and a young Asian man. Then look back to me, then to each other, and this process reoccurred a few times over until the Crossbow guy and Bearded man makes their way over.

"What's your name?" Beard asks, watching for my answer intently.

Trying not let my anger show, I look up to them both under my lashes, "Nora Boudreaux, for what it's worth these days." I answer, now watching their faces for a reply.

Beard nods his head, looking around before kneeling over me, "If I cut you loose, Nora, are you gonna cause trouble? Because I don't think it'll end too well for you." His weary blue eyes never leave mine, the deep voice deadly serious, and I move closer to him,

"I'm on your side here.", is all I say leaning back against the tree, feeling confident as the two men stare at me and then to one another, having some sort of silent conversation before Beard reaches behind me and cuts away the rope. I sigh in relief, rubbing my wrists on the camoflage shirt to wipe away the blood stains before using the rough bark of the tree to pull myself up. Crossbow Guy has already began walking away, leaving only myself and the tall, blue-eyed man standing among the trees,

"I'm Rick Grimes." He says, slowly extending a hand, finally giving me a name for the face, "Are you staying or leaving?" Rick asks, obviously a man that has no problem getting straight to the point. I return the gesture, gripping his hand before answering,

"Honestly, I've got no where to go. Being on my own isn't really an option, as you saw the kind of trouble I can get myself into.", I go on, laughing in a failed attempt to lighten the mood, " If you've got room for me, I promise to pull my weight. Like I said, I've been on y'all's side since I saw what they were doing with you. Those people back there.." I shake my head, still unable to understand the monsterous going-ons that had occured right under my nose, "I had no idea, Rick or I would've left a long time ago."

Rick and I stand there a bit longer, the sounds of the forest around us starting to come to life once more, filling the uncomfortable silence. After running a hand through his graying black hair, he nods his head meeting my eyes deliberately,

"Alright. But remember what I said before, I have no problem doin' _exactly _what needs to be done to protect this group." Once again his voice is serious, and frightening, although I would never admit that anyone else. So, instead, I hide the fear with a small smile,

"Thank you. Thank you so much." My mouth forms the words as my hand reaches out to him, "I won't let you down."


	6. Chapter 6

**Alright guys! This chapter a little longer than the others and it's also set ahead about three months in the future! I promise there won't be anymore time jumping anymore:) I hope you enjoy, and of course reviews are loved and cherished for all eternity! -D**

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"Maggie, you and Glenn were made for each other. Why do you think he would ever even look at someone else like that?" I ask her lightly, as I finish cutting her thick brown hair.

Maggie and I had quickly turned to each other for advice on all different levels, from guys to grieving for her sister, Beth. I still don't think Maggie has given up on her yet, from what Daryl had told us a million times, Beth had been kidnapped and for the past two months since Terminus, we had all done our share in finding the girl. From what I know of her, she seems like a head strong young woman, with a new found 'give it hell' attitude, as Daryl lovingly described their adventures for booze. She seems like the person my daughter would have grown up to be, and my heart begins to ache before I can chase the vivid memories of her from my mind, so I tune back in on our conversation,

"I think I'm just crazy, everythin' we've been through and now things have been so quiet.. Just doesn't seem right anymore, ya know?" Maggie inquires, and I nod my head, understanding exactly what she meant.

When things get too 'normal' during these times, it puts us all on edge, like we're just waiting to lose someone else or for another herd of walkers to find us again. I guess that's just how living with the undead nightmare for the past three years has effected us all, we learn to not trust anything, anyone, or anywhere for that matter. Yet, we've been squatting in this abandon country club for coming on three weeks now, all of us simply waiting for the absolute worst to happen.

"I hear ya." I reply, brushing the hair away from her neck and setting the scissors on the side table, "But, you have nothin' to worry about Maggie. And you know I got your back if we need to rough him up a little." I say with a wink before handing her the broken piece of mirror to inspect my work. With an easy laugh, she gives me hug,

"Thank you, my hair was gettin' to be a mess." Maggie says, before her face grows more somber, "I'm glad you found us. I think you've brightened us all up a little, made it a bit easier."

I shake my head, "Oh _please_, don't make me cry with all that serious talk!" I exclaim, sweeping the cut hair out through the open door that leads to the patio. With that, she walks away chuckling and I'm left sweeping the hair towards the grass now as I hear footsteps behind me.

"You ready to go out again?" Daryl's voice booms from my left and I turn, giving him an innocent enough glare, "Or, would you rather play house-wife all day?", he adds, knowing how to really stomp all over my nerves.

I quickly toss the broom at him, and am able to land a mean punch to his ribs before pulling away from his grip, running into the house to retrieve my trusted rifle.

Daryl had taken the longest, by far, to get close to but after he finally opened up, he proved to be loyal and trustworthy and surprisingly had a huge heart. Everything he does is for the better of the group, and in our search for Beth, he has always been the first one out and the last one back. But, whether he knows it or not, I can see the guilt in his eye on those rare occasions when he truly opens up, which are a far and few between, and I feel the anger and sadness he keeps so close to him because he really feels responsible for her disappearance.

Yet, when he wasn't searching for Beth or food, I had somehow managed to talk him into to teaching to me track like he can. Or at least a close approximation of how good he really is.

"Let's go. We ain't got all day, girl!" I hear him yell up at me as I descend the wooden steps, pushing past him at the bottom. I'm well aware that our relationship is rocky even on our best, most civil, days but pushing his buttons has recently become one of my favorite past times. Only because seeing him get really riled up is quite the show in itself, "Watch it." Daryl calls behind me, a warning in his tone.

With a simple wink in reply, we head out for the wood line, informing Rick and Abe of where exactly our tracking grid would be for the day before continuing on our way, letting the dappled sunlight and cool shade envelope us as we venture deeper into the pines.

"Let's see if you learned anythin' yet," Daryl stops, looking up through the canopy of trees, "when will the sun set?" He asks, putting a hand on his in hip impatiently.

I follow his eyes upward, placing the sun to be past it's noon position in the sky and come up with the current time to be close to three o'clock. Looking down to my digital watch, I'm pleased to find my estimation to be close enough to correct, and then proceed to map out the next few hours in my head,

"It'll set close to eight o'clock, maybe a little after." I reply, obvious question playing in my caramel eyes, looking to him for any correction. When the usual battering doesn't come, I smile brightly, "See, I'm a better student than you thought, Dixon." I say, a little too much cockiness shining through.

"I thank your head's gettin' bigger already. Let's go." Daryl says with a shake of his head before heading eastbound through the trees. I walk beside him for awhile in silence, him watching me ever so often as I search the ground intently,

"There." I say, kneeling down, pulling my hair up into a bun before pointing out the faint track of a, what I believe to be, coyote in the damp ground, "Coyote?" I inquire, looking at him for reassurance and with a nod, he stretches up again and we move to either side of the barely-there trail. Following in tandem for nearly half of a mile before I'm unable to make it out anymore,

"Damnit." I curse to myself, shaking my head and kicking the leaves to find anything to go on. By this time, we're both drenched in sweat from the withering humidity and my anger is quickly soaring higher than the Georgia heat.

"It's still there. Kickin' shit around ain't gonna make it any easier to see." Daryl says, a snide tone to his voice that makes my blood boil in frustration.

"Yeah, well I don't see a damn thing. I'm done." Is my reply as I angrily push him out of my way.

"Hey," Daryl grabs my arm, spinning me to face him, his blue eyes lit with anger now as well, "you wanna learn somethin', or act like a brat that ain't gettin' her way?"

A devilish grin comes to my lips as the sweat drips off my chin, and I clench my fist, turning away from him before quickly feigning, swinging with a good amount of force, that would have really hurt if it had connected with his jaw like planned. Instead, he grabs my hand, twisting it behind my back at a rather odd, almost painful angle, as he forces me into the solid trunk of the nearest tree, the bark scraping my face and chest.

"Daryl, I swear to God, get the hell off me." I say, my voice seething with a burning type of anger. I can feel my whole body shake, until his body is right against mine, his mouth right next my ear, his breath sending shivers throughout my entire body,

"Calm down, and I'll let you go." He says, keeping his mouth there by my ear, still causing chills to rush through me. We stay this way for another moment, and I feel the anger being replaced with something else, something closer to lust. I hadn't felt an emotion so raw as this now in years, and as he let go I slowly turned my body to face his, and lean my head against the bark. We're inches away from each other, and I try to stop my eyes from wandering to his lips, but I just keep thinking what they would feel like against mine. My chest rises and falls quickly, my breathing becoming more erratic the longer I feel his body so close to mine. I notice his eyes looking over me in the same way, that almost animalistic gleam playing in his irises again, and the way his arms have me pinned to the tree, I could scream from this new kind of frustration surging through me.

_-Hang on, what the hell is wrong with you?_

As soon as the question crosses my mind, I see Jack's face flash through my vision and nearly choke on the guilt that now rose from the pit of my stomach. With my lungs on the verge of stopping altogether, I duck beneath Daryl's arm, grabbing my rifle and practically run the way we came, tears threatening to spill over because how could I feel like this about another man, how could I want someone else the way I had only ever been with Jack? It seemed awful and wrong and I just can't believe the things that had crossed my mind back there with Daryl. Ashamed is the best way to describe how I really feel as I burst through the wood line, avoiding Carl and Judith's stares at all costs.

"Nora, wait up!" I hear Carl's voice behind me, wishing he would've just let me be, "Find anything good?" He asks now, Judith perched on his hip, sucking away at some plastic baby thing.

"Lost the trail, have to see if we can pick it up again tomorrow, I suppose." I reply, trying to smile but all I want to do is go down to the creek and wash away the sweat and the feelings that still linger, as if they know how much I despise them. "Goin' down to the creek for a swim, C." I call back to them, grabbing my bag and a worn out towel before heading in the opposite direction of anywhere near where the blue-eyed hunter would be.


	7. Chapter 7

I sway my feet in the cool water before standing to step out of my cut off shorts, and pulling the green tank top over my head. My body still reeling from mine and Daryl's tracking lesson, I dive into the clear water, letting it wash away the rest of my shame in its radiant turquoise color. Turning over on my back, I float around for awhile, watching the clouds mosey by as the sun continues on it's journey to meet the horizon. I think about my group, about Sasha and Bob, Michonne, Carol, Tyreese, Glenn, Maggie, Carl, Rick, little Judith, Abe and Rosita, Doc, and of course Daryl, how they had taken me in, made me part of their family.

Unfortunately, I can't help but to think about how I wouldn't have made it if I hadn't ran into them. Literally. I would, most likely, be dead or the awful mixture of dead and living, and that truely seems like the worst fate that we kind of all have to deal with nowadays. Then, like always, I think about the perfect family I once had.

Jack, the man I had met my junior year of highschool, the man I had given everything to. When we found out I was pregnant, I was only eighteen while he had only just turned twenty. We were scared out of our minds, but it was an _'uh-oh'_ that turned out to be our little miracle. Jack had asked me to marry him on our daughter's birthday, five years later, and although we had been living together for six years then, everything finally felt perfect.

Of course, it was perfect until, well, it just wasn't anymore. When the virus spred, and people started.. eating one another, we took Claire to Ft. Benning where Jack's brother was stationed at the time. The Army base held it's own for a few months, but after rations got low and ammuntions began to run out, people started to panic. The number of suicides were astounding, and soon I saw Jack starting to break down. The death of his brother and friends right next to us was taking it's toll in the worst ways, we fought and Claire cried, unable to understand what was happening and we lived like that for weeks.

With my brain just not able to keep reliving the memories, I swim to the bank, pulling the towel around me as hang my under garments on a limb to dry. After a while, Rick had come to find me, telling me dinner was ready and to come back soon since nighttime was falling over the land quickly. Looking down at my watch, I laugh sadly, seeing the numbers 8:04 on the face, which only comfirmed my estimation from earlier as I pull a clean, almost sheer v-neck over my torso and dance myself into a pair of Michonne's skinny jeans. Pulling on my boots, I trudge back to the country club, sighing as I see Daryl sitting in one of the rocking chairs on the front porch.

"Have a good cry 'bout it?" He sneers, giving me one of his rare lopsided grins, his words practically radiating with sarcasm.

I feel the anger burst through me, along with the same shameful twirling in my stomach at the sight of his worn through jeans and boots, and how every muscle in his arms were visible thanks to his usual attire of sleeveless shirts. Thing's I've seen him wear a hundred times, but now it's like I notice everything and well- it's killing me. With a certain finger extended in his direction, and a hundred-watt smile plastered on my face, I strut past him without another word.

Entering the big doors, I find Michonne, Maggie, and Sasha sitting in the foyer, exchanging in easy conversation.

"Hey y'all." I greet them with smiles, and take an empty spot next to Michonne who I now notice is bouncing Judith on her knee,

"Nora, tell Sasha what you told me about taking care of men." Maggie throws at me before I even get tuned into their conversation well enough to know what the hell is going on,

"Hmm, well.. I've told you a few things about men." I retort, a devious smile tugs at my lips making the others snicker.

Maggie gives a sigh before going on, "About the easiest way to get what you want, ya know? Sasha isn't doin' too well with Bob."

The last comment riles a full blown laugh from the whole group, Judith included, and a shade of red blooms through Sasha's cheeks as she looks to me,

"Oh, of course. Way to a man's heart is through his stomach, easy as that." I say, giving a wink before making my way to the huge dining room, hearing the women snicker once more.

As much as I should probably stay and take part in some normal girl talk, it's just never really been my thing. Women are too complex, we overthink things and try to read between the lines, and the only place that ever gets us is even more confused. While men, on the other hand, are simple minded creatures and much, much easier to get on with for the most part. No worries about having vague or deep conversations with them, they get to the point, not beat around the bush.

"Nora, can I talk to you for second?" Rick asks quietly, quickly hushing my thoughts.

-_Is everyone in need of advice today? And since when did they start coming to you to get said advice?_ My mind runs through the questions, getting zero viable answers in return, so I take seat opposite Rick at the table.

"Sure thing, what's goin' on?" I inquire, leaning in towards our leader.

Rick's hand finds its way to the back of his neck, and that tired look that seems to always darken in his sky blue eyes seems much worse in the dim light of the corner, "Carl's birthday is in a few days." He says finally, meeting my eyes and the weariness is quickly replaced with a heart-wrenching sadness that immediately makes my whole chest tense up, "Can you get a little group together, go into town, maybe find somethin'? Anythin' really. I don't think he even remembers it anymore." He finishes, a defeated sag returning to his shoulders.

I grab his hand, run my thumb across the rough skin, "Of course, Rick. We'll make sure he remembers this one. I promise." Giving him my word with a small smile, Rick returns the gesture half-heartedly before standing to give me a hug, "I'll get them together after dinner." I say quietly, pulling myself away from the embrace, "Please don't worry, okay? I'm gonna make it special."


	8. Chapter 8

With our stomachs full of fish caught from the creek and canned green beans, I set off to find my partner for the birthday run. Going through the list, I immediately lean towards Michonne, knowing how close her and Carl are, but after an accident on our last run, her ankle still isn't ready for another close call. So, still ticking off names, I run into Glenn in the hallway,

"Glenn! Just the guy I needed to see." I exclaim, giving a playful punch to the arm.

His eyebrows cock slightly, a worried expression gracing his features, "What did I do?" He asks quickly, and I can't help but to laugh at his innocence.

"Umm, nothing? I just wanted to ask you for a favor." I say back to him, and his face takes on a more casual expression, obviously glad to not be in trouble, " Carl's birthday is coming up, and that town about five miles out," Glenn is nodding his head along with every word I say, already devising a plan, "I think it may still have a few things layin' around we could pick through, soooo what do you say?" I inquire now, reading his reaction. And when a grin breaks through, I sigh in relief.

We rush to one of the few offices, and Glenn pulls out a map and pen, plotting out the quickest route to the small town, "Alright, so we're both pretty fast and I'm sure we could make it in about forty-five minutes, an hour tops. There's an arcade I remember from last time, and a couple other places, in and out for sure though. We don't know if any visitors have decided to stick around so, no more than twenty minutes and then we're out again. Sound good?" He asks, and I can't help but to admire how much leadership quality the kid has.

I smile, nodding quickly, "Sounds perfect. We'll leave at first light."

...

Sleep was unfitful at best, but as soon as I see the deep indigo of nightime begin to lighten through my window, I all but leap from the couch. Barely sliding on my boots before quietly running through the halls to find Glenn,

"Oh my god, your hair.", are the first words from Glenn's mouth when he sees me and I remember I had completely forgotten about my hair, braiding it quickly, I stop only to slap his head for his offensive tone before we're out the door. Our journey begins uneventfully, traveling in comfortable silence as the damp morning air settles around us.

Getting tired of all the quiet, I look over to Glenn, his face serious as he concentrates on everything the woods have to offer, "So, how are you and Maggie?" I whisper, pulling him from his own thoughts for a moment.

"Uhh, we-we're good. Yeah, we're great." He replies, caught off gaurd by the personal question, "But.. I think she's been kind of distant lately. Like, she watches me in a different way."

-_Ahh, Maggie doesn't ever listen, does she_? I ask myself, wondering why in the world people come to me for advice, but never take it!

Clearing my throat, "She thinks you've been looking at some of the other girls." I explain bluntly, not feeling like being mysterious or vague because it's just the two of us, and he can handle it.

Glenn stops in his tracks, his mouth gaping at me, "W-w-what? H-how could she think that!", he manages to stutter out before catching back up to me, "That's ridiculous, she's my wife! I don't even think about other women that way anymore. It just seems... wrong." He finishes, surprise and utter shock still laced throughout his voice, and I'm quiet because he's so right about it being wrong. Yet, here I am, thinking about Daryl in very wrong ways.

I sigh, frustration building within me again, "Well, just make sure you let _her_ know that. Remember, actions speak louder than words, so show her you mean it, not just tell her."

He nods, soaking up my words and for the first time, I feel like someone might actually pay attention and use my advice. Yet, for the rest of the time, we simply listen to the forest around us, making our way quietly through until we see the outline of buildings in between the trees ahead of us. I pull the machete from it's sheath strapped to my thigh, and giving Glenn a silent nod, we break our cover. Crouching and taking turns between rotating to watch the back and front we make it to the first store without difficulty.

As soon as Glenn pulls the door open, I sling the machete through the skull of one walker and kick another that's waiting behind, terminating it before it got the chance to make it off the floor. We move in tandem, clearing every rack and door before giving the all clear and the search goes on like this for three other stores. We take out a couple more walkers on our way out of the town and as we make our way through the woods. The thought of the undead bastards venturing closer to our temporary home makes me uneasy though, and I can tell Glenn is thinking the same thing,

"We'll have to tell the others their coming this way." He states, hanging his head, because, like the rest of us, he's just now starting to feel normal in our country club home too.

A yawn escapes my lips and I nod, "I know. But, we'll do it after Carl gets his presents. It'll take any one of them two days or more to reach us anyway, and they don't seem to have grouped together, so we shouldn't have a problem keeping them away.. I just don't know how much longer we've got here." I reply, hearing the dispair in my own voice.

"We'll make it though, we always have." I feel his arm hang on my shoulder like an older brother would do, squeezing me in some sort of half hug, but I feel all the love and support behind it in the world, bringing a smile to my lips.

...

"I can't thank you both enough." Rick praises Glenn and I, as he helps us wrap the presents in some old newpaper we found in town.

Comic books, pencils and paper, new jeans and even a pair of boots, are all being wrapped up and tied with twine before being hidden under the cabinets behind the bar. I watch Rick, and he doesn't look sad like he did last night, tired, very much so, but not nearly as heart breaking as he had when he first ask me to go on the run. Just seeing him look almost back to normal, made me too happy to even tell him the news about walkers moving this way, at least for right now. And like always, Glenn seems to be right there with me.

As we finish with the last gifts, I smile brightly, holding up my handy work, "Well, let's hope the birthday boy likes our wrapping!"


	9. Chapter 9

"You ready to go?" The gravely voice startles me for a moment, until I place the familiar rasp and my heart begins to beat a little faster, not entirely from fear, either.

I don't turn to face him, instead choosing to continue changing, "Where?" I ask innocently, tossing my blood-stained shirt to the floor before grabbing a clean tank top, pulling it over my torso slowly before finally meeting his eyes.

"Finish what you started yesterday.", is all Daryl says before walking away, like he's just expecting me to follow.

"Ughhh." I groan to myself, shouldering my rifle before chasing after him, "Damn redneck."

...

The silence is just plain awkward this time, as we walk the same coyote trail from the previous day. Like usual, I take the lead while Daryl trails behind, critiquing my work, but unlike usual, every move I make is wrong today, and he's not even attempting to sugar coat the disdain in his voice. Ignoring him far longer than any rational person would, I try to focus on the trail until we reach the same point as yesterday and like before, I feel my eyes straining for anything.

"C'mon, blondie. It's there, hell, a blind man could see that! So, why can't you?" He banters, and I curl my fists into painful little balls, my fingernails digging into the flesh of my palm.

I crouch down, seeing a tiny, nearly half-paw print veering towards the right, and when he doesn't say anything I exhale in relief. Honestly, not knowing if I can take another asshole remark right now. We follow it deeper into the dense underbrush, until it's truly lost this time at the mouth of a cave. Rubbing my face, annoyed and once again frustrated, "Must be the den." I state, looking back at him over my shoulder. He gives no indication of answering, instead brushing past me,

"There's no way I'm goin' in there.", placing my hands on my hips, I stare at the back of his head.

"Hell girl, you came this far, you gonna let it go now 'cause you afraid of the dark?" Daryl's still not looking at me, only inspecting the cave further. I throw my hands up, finding the nearest tree and plomp myself down at the base of it's trunk,

"Look, you want to go exploring in some random hole in the ground, go for it. I'll tell the others when you don't come back." I retort, throwing him an icy glare as he finally turns to meet my eyes.

He drops his hand to his side, giving me the usual look until both of our heads snap up, looking in the direction of crunching leaves heading our way. I pull my rifle up, staring down the scope, I see three walkers stumbling about. Looking back towards Daryl I hold up three fingers, not wantng to alert the group to our presence, when suddenly, loud moans boom from behind us. Before I turn to look, Daryl grabs my arm pulling me up and now, we're running in the opposite direction of the house, much further in the woods than we've ventured before. The three walkers we spotted first are now on our trail, and I still don't know how many my tracking teacher saw, but if _he's_ running then it's probably for the best if I don't ask questions.

"There." He says, pointing towards a large hunting blind straight ahead of us. As soon as we reach it, Daryl's hands are around my waist, hoisting me high enough so I can grab on and pull myself up. With the ladder long rotted away, he jumps and pulls himself up as well, panting as he crawls to my side before aiming his crowbow down to the small group of walkers that are now pawing and reaching for the fresh meat just out of their reach. With the silencer firmly in place on my rifle, I follow his lead, and we take them out one at time until all that's left in a pile of disgusting corpses below us.

"Holy shit. That was a little too close for comfort." I say, breathing raggedly from our run and the adrenaline still surging through my body.

Looking around, I see discarded, empty cans and a pile a fabric towards one corner of the blind, a few articles of clothing and a smashed radio,

"Daryl, I think someone was staying up here." I state, crawling over to the abandoned items, sorting through them. Turning my head back towards where he was sitting, I notice his eyes moving over me and an out of place shiver courses over my skin, "Lose somethin' over here?" I ask sarcastically, still maintaining eye contact. Without another thought, I crawl back to our spot, watching him the entire time and I can see the look in his eyes, the war raging between his head and his body, because the exact same war is storming through me, too. Leaning back against the wall, our shoulders touching, I stare at my hands for a moment before looking up to see his eyes staring back down at me. And my self-control is out the window, nothing but animalistic desire driving my movements.

I move slowly, deliberately keeping my eyes glued to his as I sling my leg over him, straddling his lap. My hands start on his chest, creeping towards his neck and working themselves through his shaggy hair. Leaning down, my lips find his collar bone and gradually move up until reaching his jawline. I pull away, biting my lip as I wait for any kind of reaction from him, any sort of confirmation that the crazy things I'm doing right now are any where near okay. Tilting my head, I finally see the fighting behind his blue eyes cease as his rough hands grab my hips, pulling me closer. Our lips find one another and it's urgent and lustful and passionate all while being rough yet gentle at the same time.

We contiue like this for a few minutes, our hands exploring the other's bodies until I feel him grab the hemline of my tank top, slowly lifting it while his fingers leave a burning chill in their wake as they slide easily over my skin. He pulls away, our eyes stuck together until my top is completely off and I can't stop my lips from crashing into his again. Letting a tiny moan escape my lips as I feel his hands running up and down my back, fingers digging into my flesh before unclasping my bra without a second of hesitation. Although, I think we're way past that point by now anyway, as he stands, his hands moving under my thighs for support and never breaking our kiss until he lays me in the pile of blankets.

Now, he's kissing my neck softly, moving to my collarbone, and over my breasts until he reaches my belt. In a way that tells me he's done it before, my belt, button, and zipper are all opened in one swift motion, and his hands pull the rest off with more urgency than before. After throwing my jeans to the side, I reach up, our lips moving fervently agaisnt the others once more as I lift his shirt over his head, exposing his very well defined torso, adorned with a small tattoo over his heart. My hands run up and down, nails digging into his back before finding their way to his belt. And even though I can't pull it off quite as graceful as Daryl's performance, I get the job done, leaving us both with nothing left but whatever dignity still remained.

Never breaking from our kiss, his hand moves to my thigh, pulling it up so that it hooks around his waist before lowering himself closer to me. For a single instant, he pulls away, leaving me wanting nothing more than to feel him even closer. His eyes say so many things that his mouth just can't, but I see only one question, and it's only a moment, but I feel my heart tighten up and I fight internally for an answer, seeing Jack for a split second before he's gone and all I see is Daryl. All I want, right now, is Daryl. I let the same question play in my eyes, and when he nods, I know there is no going back. While he's slow and cautious at first, the almost too urgent desire replaces that fear, and it's like our bodies were made for each other, fitting together like a puzzle piece. Everything he's doing makes my entire body shudder with pleasure, his more gutteral moans weave in and out with my softs ones, until we're both a sweaty, panting mess, limbs tangled together while his head lays limply against my heaving chest. Both us simply trying to recover from what just happen.

...

"So, what does Daryl Dixon fear?",

I ask slyly, twirling the small dagger in my hand. Looking back, my caramel eyes bore into his navy blue ones, and I just can't help the smirk that plays on my lips. Daryl looks up to me from his place in the heap of old quilts, giving his head a slight shake before snaking his muscular arm around my waist, pulling our bodies together once more.

"There ain't a damn thing I'm scared of anymore." He replies gruffly, letting my head fall into the crook between his neck and shoulder. My fingers trace the outline of a small tattoo on his bare chest, and I hear his heart beating underneath. The rythm is strong and steady, and as we lay there in comfortable silence, my mind wanders to how the hell I, or better yet WE, ever let this happen. It goes against every code I've made for myself. In these times, no one can afford to get this close to anyone. No, it's just too risky. Of course I know this, I know all it will ever lead to is pain and heartache, yet, my body's wants have somehow overruled my brain and well, here we are.

Our journey back to the country club is rather different than before. Although we don't talk much, it's not awkward like before, instead of the usual tension, I feel like it's more open between us. Yet, I have no idea how this is suppose to play out at all. What we did, well, it was great, wonderful even, and all my frustrations seemed to have quickly disappeared but what now? Do we act like nothing ever happen, just continue on our daily routine? It seems like the Daryl thing to do, and since we aren't like Maggie and Gleen or Bob and Sasha, we don't have to act like anything happen. Our little secret I guess, and Daryl is giving me abosolutely nothing to go on either, not even a look.

-_Great._

I stop, tugging his arm, "Hang on a second. What was that?" I ask, meeting his eyes yet he doesn't keep them their long,

"Ain't a big deal, is it?" He asks, walking away again, causing me to scoff before following his trail.

As soon as we break through the woodline, we part ways like usual. Everything is exactly like usual, we bicker and throw insults back and forth, but I can't stop thinking about the hunting blind. And now, it's like nothing ever happen.


	10. Chapter 10

With a day already having passed since things got a little too personal with Daryl, I've kept my distance, choosing to work around the house in place of going out for any more lessons.

"Nora!" Carol walks over to me, and I feel some tension bristle up. I know she has a thing for Daryl, and she's been around a lot longer than I have. Who knows, they might have done the same thing.

Yet, I plant a fake smile on my face, "Hey Carol!" I say, as we walk together to retreive some laundry from the lines before the ominous clouds above decide to give way.

"Can I ask you about somethin'?" She asks wearily, giving me a side glance. I feel as though I already know where this conversation is headed, but I vainly try to push the thoughts away before answering,

Kicking a rock, "Sure, what's up?" I reply without looking at, basically just concentrating on anything except for her, or Daryl, or the hunting blind.

-_ Oh damn it all to hell._

Carol's wringing her hands now, "Your daughter.."

_-Where did that come from? I ask myself, feeling my whole body tense up._

"you never really talk about her, or your husband-"

"Fiance, he was my fiance." I say, cutting her off, "I don't mean to be rude, but where is this going?" I still haven't looked at her, but my hands have curled up at my sides. Talking about Claire and Jack is just something I don't do. With anyone. Hell, I have a hard enough time thinking about them on my own.

Her expression has gone from casual to a mixture of offended and frightened, "I'm not trying to pry. I just know how you're feeling, I lost my little girl too, it's the most difficult thing I've ever had to go through, and I wanted to let you know if you ever need someone to talk to, well.. I'm here." She finishes, letting her hands fall back to her sides.

_-Hmmm.._

"Uhh-" My brain attempts to throw together a coherent apology, yet, after everything else, I think it's very near the verge of giving up for the evening already, "Thanks Carol. I might take you up on that one of these days, and of course, you can come to me, too. It's a terrible thing, but it gives something in common, and that makes us stronger." I finish, pinching the bridge of nose, successfully feeling like a complete idiot.

But, Carol is none the wiser as she gives me a knowing, motherly smile, obviously feeling very well about the short conversation. I, on the other hand, well, I just want to go to bed. It's hardly even past five, and the mental exhaustion alone is enough to send my body into zombie mode, making laundry a more robotic chore as I nod and give a few 'yeahs' where I decide they should go as Carol rambles on about God knows what. And as soon as we make it to the back yard, it's as if the flood gates open up and before a minute passes, we're both soaked through to the bone, running to get inside.

"Dad, can we go out, please?" I hear Carl beg his father, looking back at me with an excited gleam in his eye. An excitement I hadn't see out of the boy since I joined the group, and I start to feel some of his excitement surge through me. That is, until a certain leather vest clad man walks through the door. I try too hard not to even look at him, but I notice him staring at me, his eyes traveling up and down before turning on his heel, as if he were never there.

"I don't know, Carl. You could get sick, who knows what might happen." Rick says, attempting to talk his son out the childish wish.

I move towards them, rain dripping onto the wood below my feet, "It's not cold at all, we'll only stay out there for a few minutes. I'll watch him." I state, looking directly into Rick's eyes, smiling when defeat plays in his features. Carl gives him a quick hug, before tearing through the door, out into the monsoon that has fell upon us. With a glance over my shoulder and a reassuring smile, I follow the boy out, feeling the rain pour over my again.

A few minutes later, we see Michonne and Bob come outside to join, and after them, Glenn and Maggie are dancing with us as the rain shows no sign of letting up. Running around, I look at all their faces, smiling and genuinely happy, for the first time in only the Lord knows how long. I can't help but to relish every second of it, because how much time do we have left to make these kinds of memories? Everyone of them mean so much, and I can tell in each of their faces. Even Rick and Daryl are on the porch, watching our antics with a smile tugging at their lips, giving me even more of reason to want to dance.

"Carl!" I call out, watching as he slides through the grass to make it to me, leaning in close, "Let's go get them out here, got it?" I say, looking at the two men leaning agaist the porch railings and with a devious grin, Carl nods quickly, running to Michonne, informing her of our plan.

The three of us make our way to the porch, laughing and smiling widely, as we meet their eyes. I find Daryl's and I see amusement and caring in the deep blue color, along with something else I can't quite place as I grab his hand, Carl pushing him from behind until he's getting just as soaked as we are. A moment of anger plays at his features before seeing me laughing, and even he cracks a smile as Michonne finally pulls Rick from the porch. Now, it feels perfect. The sillyness and laughter replace the fear and stress, even if it is for just a moment, and we all feel normal. Like the world isn't filled with walkers, like we haven't lost so many loved ones, and like we can all just let go for a moment, forget the hell we live in.

So, we dance and chase and sing and laugh until the rain is replaced with a rainbow and for a little while, we truely enjoy the moment.


	11. Chapter 11

"You don't think I can hit it from here?" I ask, looking up to Daryl, "Care to bet something on that?" My disappointment turns into a sly grin, deciding to make target practice into a little game.

It's been over a week since the hunting blind, and as much I hate to admit it, things are as normal as they've ever been between us. Tracking lessons, killing walkers, hunting, more lessons, and not a single incident. Not even a look, and to be completely honest, it's driving me crazy- yet, I say nothing and do nothing because I don't want to be 'that girl'. The girl that can't let go, no way, that is not me. Not a chance.

-_Quit lying to yourself_. My mind snaps at me, completely oblivious to the fact that I am really trying to let it go.

"What the hell we got to bet? A can of beans?" Daryl retorts now, sarcasm and amusement in his voice.

Looking back down the scope, the empty bottle is in the perfect spot, I could hit it blindfolded but his lack of faith in me has turned my competitive side on overdrive,

"Hmm, how 'bout a shirt." I say, my eye still fixed on the scope. I wait for some kind of witty remark and when nothing happens, I look at him and his face is truely award worthy. A brutal glare is what I'm met with, and I can't stop the innocent smile from gracing my lips, my girl-like dimples adding even more innocence to the suggestion, "What? You aren't scared are you?"

Now he grunts, shaking his head, "Fine. This is gonna be fun for me." He states, sounding like an honest guy.

With that, I crouch down, angling myself for a better shot before feeling the wind blowing slightly towards the west, and set the crosshairs just a second to the east of the bottle. Breathing out slowly, I feel the trigger move easily and in an instant the bottle disappears from view, a huge smile crossing my lips as I look up to him expectantly,

"Well?" I ask, and without hesitation he pulls the shirt over his head and just like that, we're back in the blind the first time I saw him shirtless.

"Lose somethin' over here?" Daryl asks mockingly, bringing me back to reality. Tearing my eyes away with reluctance, he pulls his crossbow up, and I see the squirrel he's aiming at impaled in the tree behind it within a couple seconds. His eyes return to mine, a devilish grin tugging the corner of his mouth.

I set the rifle on the ground, keeping my eyes locked on his as I pull the blue tank top slowly over my head before throwing it at him, "What are we betting now?" I ask, watching his eyes move over my body.

"Nothin'. I think it's time to head back." He states, picking his shirt off the ground, and the simple fact that he could say something like that sent my blood straight past boiling point. Lurching forward, I yank the shirt from his hand, pleased with the reaction playing in his face,

"You want it back? How about a trade? I'll give it back when you admit that something happen in that blind." I say, moving away everytime he grabbed for it and I can just see the frustration beginning to seep into his eyes.

-_Good. He deserves it_. I think to myself, smiling the whole time.

"What'd you want me to say, Nora?" Daryl stops now, his hands thrown up in question, "You want me to say tha' it'll happen 'gain? 'Cause it aint. There ain't a damn thing between us, so stop tryin'."

The plaid shirt falls from my hand, and I just look at him, in complete shock before moving closer, retrieving my own shirt. Without even thinking or knowing what the hell had gotten into me, I reach out and slap him. Hard. Hard enough to send pain rushing through my hand, but he's doesn't retaliate, doesn't even look at me again.

I couldn't care less though as I yank the tank top back on before shouldering my rifle and storm away through the woods. Not bothering to pay attention, because who cares where I end up, or who will even know I'm gone, because just like I knew would happen, I feel my chest start to tighten and my lungs constrict, because what just happen was everything that I had been so scared of.

I was an idiot to be with Daryl Dixon that way, to let him do what he did, and to love every second of it. And I'm still very much so an idiot for even letting it faze me for an instant, but it is. It hurts and the rejection radiates through me like a nuclear bomb just went off right beside me and by this time, I'm running, letting my lungs burn because right now, it feels real. I need something real, because obviously what happen in that blind was NOT real. And as if the great Lord above me is just trying to rub it in my face for being, probably the biggest idiot he ever created, I look aways through the trees and see the wooden hunting blind perched in between the branches, mocking me.

"Of course." I sigh, trying to catch my breath as I near the old pine. Looking around, I jump up, barely grasping the edge before pulling myself up and over with a tired grunt. Once inside the tiny, very dimly lit space, I see the old quilts like we had left them, and everything else pushed to the side. I hit the floor with every bit of strength I have left, loving the pain that splinters through my hand and wrist, as a single, brave tear escapes my eye.

"To hell with it." Muttering under my breath as I set the rifle up in the corner beside me. Hardly a few silent minutes go by before I hear leaves crunching,

"Nora." Daryl calls out, making me see red. The sheer audacity of the man is astounding, and I feel a new anger spread through me because how dare he come after me?

- _Stop being such a drama queen, Nora._ I spit at myself, knowing damn well how much of one I really am being. Yet, right now, I can't be bothered to give a shit.

I hear him right beneath me now, and of course he knows where I'm at, "I shouldn'ta said that. I-I-I don't know what else to do. Come down." Daryl says, his voice soft and caring for the first time and it's odd because it just doesn't sound like him at all. But, I'm a Boudreaux, and by default I'm about as stubborn as a mule, if not more so, so I choose to give no reply, not even a dirty look. Daryl Dixon isn't worth it, sure, he was a hellofa good lay, that's it. Right?

"Fine." I hear him say, before feeling the entire branch shake with his weight. My eyes meet his as he pulls himself up, his arm muscles straining against the weight. And as he rolls around to sit, I'm still looking at him, hoping looks can really kill. Over the next few seconds, my brain turns into a jumbled up mess because I'm not really thinking much at all as I lunge towards the man. I'm aware of landing one good punch, because my already aching fist felt the new wave of searing pain but I all I can think about is making him hurt too.

Yet, like before, I end up pinned against the floor, Daryl's weight holding my arms over my head, "Are you gonna make me say it?" He asks, hovering over me, just inches from my face. What more can I do except glare, unblinkingly meeting his eyes until defeat flashes through his features, and he let's his head hang just a moment before looking back to me, "I'm sorry."

Just like that, I don't feel quite as mad anymore, just as betrayed, but no where near as pissed off. His apology is another first, and it struck me as being something Daryl didn't say much at all. If ever. He's still so close to me, and I hate him for it all over again, though. I stop looking at him, instead turning my head away completely, looking at a spec on the wall, taking myself away from the situation as much as possible. And really, it's all fine and dandy until I feel him kiss my neck, and all those feelings rush through me, feelings I do not want to feel right now.

"Stop." I command, but it's the farthest thing from a command, because it only comes out in a hushed whisper. Daryl's obviously not listening because he just keeps doing it until I begin to squirm beneath him. His weight comes off of me and I quickly slid from underneath him.

"What the hell are you doing?" I ask, my voice hoarse and my breathing a little too quick.

"Hell, it's what you want, ain't it?" He retorts, giving me an unreadable expression.

Throwing my hands up, I move towards the entrance, staying as far from him as I can, " You're a real dick, just hope you know-."

Yet, before I can finish my sentence, or my escape for that matter, one arm is around my waist, yanking me to floor with barely a second passing until his lips are mine. I struggle for a moment, not wanting to do this to myself again, but as his hands move over my skin and his lips trail down my collar bone, I give in. Mentally, physically, letting instinct and frustration take over. Pulling his hair before finding their way to his belt buckle, my hands working a little more efficiently this time.

Unlike last time though, there's so no slow undressing going on. He hardly gets his pants to his knees before jerking my shorts down, his hands pushing my shirt up just enough to kiss my bare stomach, kissing all the way up, finally reaching my lips again. His strong hands pick me up, sitting me on his lap. As I straddle him, there's no question from either of us now. I look into his eyes seeing the exact same want that's rushing through me, with his hands pushing me up and down, a moan escapes both of our lips as we fall into a quick rhythm. That urgency coming back to us, much harder than before.

"Daryl.." His name comes out more like a groan as his fingers dig into my back, and he looks up to me. The question I want to ask is lost as his kisses me hard, and now my nails are scratching across his shoulders, both of our breathing becoming more ragged as grunts and moans fill the space around us. When we finally stop, Daryl falls back into the pile of quilts, sweat causing his hair to stick on his forehead. Still straddling him, I let myself fall, too, my head landing against his chest.

"Daryl?" The mans name again comes from my lips between quick breaths.

"Hmm?" He answers, his hands now playing with a few stray strands of my hair.

"Why did we do this again?" I ask, too afraid to meet his eyes. Truth is, I could keep doing this no problem, and he wanted to, too. Right?

With his fingers still nimbly running through my hair, he sighs, searching for an answer, "Wanted to I guess."

This time, I do look at him with a scoff, "You said it wouldn't happen a-"

His lips cut me off, as he pulls my body off him, I lay to the side until we stop, my breathing becoming ragged once more, "I know what I said, blondie." Daryl kisses me one more time, "Guess I ain't too good at lyin'."


	12. Chapter 12

**Final Chapter guys! It is super, duper long though and that's because my internet keeps spazing out so I just put two chapters together so I could finally get it on here. Let me know what you think, you're reviews could mean me carrying on with a sequel or giving up on my fanfiction days! Thanks to those who stuck it through to this point, it might not have been pretty the whole time, but it's a first and at least, now I can say I did it! -D**

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As the weeks pass, I've noticed that reality has come and gone. We have these moments, where it feels so normal, like we're living again and not just scratching by, and then there are times like these when it seems as if reality comes back in force just to bite us in the ass. Literally. As my thoughts consume me, I quickly take the head off another walker, turning back, "Rick!"

My shouting has turned the attention of the other three walkers to me, giving Rick the chance to take out two of them, leaving the last one for me. With all threats eliminated, Rick makes his over, as I'm doubled over, puking from the heat and the putrid smell. I give his leg a punch when I hear a faint chuckle, but if our places were swapped, there's no doubt I would definitly be laughing, so I can't be too mad at him.

"Damn it, they're coming more often now." I say, after finally being able to ease my heaving, looking up into Rick's light blue eyes. With a simple nod, he wipes some blood off my face,

"I know." He says, deep understanding in his voice, like he had already come up with a solution to our problem, "We've been here for almost two months, that's the longest time since the prison we've stayed in one place. They're comfortable here."

With my hands loosely hanging off my hips, I can't help but to agree with him, "Hell, I think we all are. "

He pats my back, "Let's get goin', before they send out the Calvary." Rick says lightly, but I can hear the uneasiness in his voice, and it's more than a little frightening. Yet, what more can I do besides put on a smile and keep everyone else's spirits high, even when Rick tells me things that the others have no clue about. Like, how he's been making plans for a big move. He'll show me areas ever so often, pointing out the geographical features that will benefit us. Not even Daryl knows yet.

Of course, I love the country club, but with the walkers coming more and more, there's always that time now, when we have to stop putting our selfish wants before the needs of the group.

-_Yeah, like you're one to talk about selfish wants._ My mind comments snidely, causing my eyes to roll.

For the past month, my escapades with Daryl happened more often than I care to admit. When things got stressful, or overwhelming, and sometimes just for the hell of it, we would go out to the blind. We didn't have to think about anything, it was just us, letting go of our worries for even the smallest amount of time. And when the sweat dries, we step back into reality, fighting and carrying on like we always do. The worst part is, everytime it happens, I feel a little part of me staying behind with Daryl.

"Earth to Nora!" I jerk my head up, meeting Carl's icy blue eyes. In my thoughts, I hadn't even made it into the house with Rick, instead opting to plomp myself down in a rocking chair.

With a nervous laugh, I ruffle his long hair, " I think it's time for hair cut, kid." Standing, I pull the collar of his jacket, "C'mon!"

Carl pulls and struggles the whole way, begging me to let go but no way, he was getting my mind away from a certain redneck and I was grateful for that.

"I was kind of digging the long hair." I hear Michonne say, leaning against the doorway of the kitchen, a sly smile on her face.

Pouting face and all, Carl sits still as I trim until his brown hair sits just above eyebrows.

"See? At least now everyone can see those pretty eyes!" I exclaim, giving him the broken mirror,

"Yes, because walkers really care about the color of my eyes." He says, disdain dripping from his voice, before dragging his feet out of the kitchen.

Michonne comes forward, "He'll thank you later.", she says with an appreciative gleam in her eyes.

"Well until then, I promise to not hold it against him." I reply, brushing his hair out the door and off the patio, "Michonne?"

"Yeah?" Now she's leaning agaisnt one of the large, stone pillars watching expectantly.

I pull my hair over one shoulder, deciding soon I would need to cut it too, "Tell me about your son." I say, not meeting her eyes, just staring at the stone pavers beneath my feet.

She repositions herself, an uncomfortable silence runs between us for a moment, "Andre," Michonne begins, a smile coming to her lips from just saying his name, "he was a ball of energy to say the least. Always moving, laughing.." I watch her face contort in sadness, " I miss him everyday."

A single tears rolls down my cheek, pictures of Claire flashing before my eyes, wondering how she would have looked now, how long her hair would be, how beautiful her eyes were, shining like two stars in the night sky. Dropping the broom, I walk to Michonne, embracing here as the tears flow freely now,

"I'm sorry, Michonne, I'm so sorry." I say, my voice muffled as she hugs me back, still as a statue, "I miss my little girl so much, I-I-I just needed to hear it, because I can't say it." Pulling away, I wipe my face, embarrassed for breaking down like this until I see the wet streaks trickling down her ebony cheeks,

"I understand. But.. But at least they didn't have to see all this." She says, holding back a sob, "And, we'll see them again. It'll be safe, and we can be happy."

I nod, a smile coming to my face, "Thank you." I say, the sincerity in my voice overpowering as I turn to head back for the door, Rick stopping me from crossing the threshold,

"Nora, have you seen Daryl?" He asks quickly, notable concern pulling at his features.

I shake my head, "Not since breakfast.", I answer, a seed of worrying growing within me now too, "Why?"

He walks away, of course with me hot on his heels, "Rick, why? What's wrong?" Pulling his arm so he has to face me, the man's face unreadable,

"I can't find him, I'm sure it's nothin'. Didn't mean to worry you." Rick says, a very forced smile coming to his lips as his big hand lands on my shoulder. Yet, the worry was very much there, very real, and very scary. Daryl and I had a routine, we made sure to know where the other would be at, so, why didn't he say something? My mind raced with questions as I grab my rifle, slamming the side door behind me, heading straight for the ,now very worn, path that will take me to the hunting blind.

-What the hell is wrong with him? Daryl never does this. My raging thoughts lead only to more anxiety as I break into a jog, yet as I jump, pulling myself into the blind, my eyes find nothing. No Daryl, only the quilts, and candle I had found a week ago, and of course the undeniable feelings the space gave me,

"Damn it." I mutter, tying my hair up, trying to think of anywhere he could be.

As I jump from the blind, I move a little deeper into the forest finding no tracks to follow, only that a howling wind has picked up since this morning. Which is really just my luck, because with the wind blowing soil and leaves around, any track would have been covered long ago. Creeping a little further, my heart begins to beat faster, something telling me things just aren't right.

"Shit!" I scream, falling to the ground as a walker tackles me. Kicking myself backwards, away from the thing's reach, I pull my dagger out, sending it straight the spongy brain and watch as the used-to-be man dies for the last time. And before I can catch my breath, I hear another monster behind me. Turning around things seem to move into a slow motion, I get tunnel vision as the walker grabs me, the rotting woman's teeth going straight for my bicep. I'm able to stab her, finally standing to my feet only to find the forest around me begin to spin at dizzying speed.

I tumble down into a small revine, landing on my back, my eyes looking towards the bright sun until I finally feel pain trickling through my arm, seeping into my head. Turning my eyes, I'm met with a grusome sight to say the least, with the andrenaline pumping through me, I hadn't even known that the bitch actually got me.

"Damn." I say, trying to control my breathing as I look up at the clouds moving by, and feel the wind dance over my sweat dampened body. Soon enough, I'm seeing Jack and Claire before me, smiling and waving, beckoning me to come with them. I smile and wave back of course, blood still seeping from my arm, everything spinning again.

My breathing becomes labored and I can feel my body throwing itself into a panic attack. Yeah, like that is really going to help my situation at all. My limbs begin to tremble, as the trees above spin faster and faster, and I feel heat surging through me. The source of heat being the bite.

-You're dying! My brain screams.

"No shit." I answer myself, figuring what's the point of hiding my crazy anymore. Then, I see Daryl and he's just standing there, eyes fixed on me, saying nothing. Like I could expect anything more. But he looks sad, so sad, and I can feel my chest begin to tighten as I close my eyes, a few tears squeezing from the sides because it hurts me seeing that look in his eyes.

"I love you Claire, " I say, ticking through the ones I had lost, Jack, my mother and father, I say Claire a few more times, smiling at the fact that I'll see her soon enough. Then, my new family and everything thing we've been through, Michonne, Rick, Carl, and Maggie, each one of their faces trickle through my vision and how the love I have for them is so completely different and real, I knew that to be more than true. And with the little strength I have left, I roll on my side, hardly even feeling my arm anymore, I guess due to the sheer blood loss, I just feel numb. "and I love you too, Daryl." His name is only a whisper, but I finally let the tunnel close into an inky blackness. There's no bright light, no warm, fuzzy feeling. Just nothing.

"She's waking up." A dreamy voice says, but I can't pinpoint it's exact location.

-Is that God? Am I really dead? If so, I'd say this is a little bit of let down, I'm suppose to feel pain if I'm dead.

-Hmm, maybe he's punishing you first.

-That makes no sense. God isn't like that.

-Oww, what the hell!

A searing pressure radiates from my right arm, as my eyes flutter open for a moment, a bright white light burn into my pupils.

"Her eyes! She is waking up, get the rod." Again I hear the dreamy voice, this time clear enough to know that it's definitely not familiar.

-Rod? A rod for what? Oh my god, please don't be aliens.

I move my fingers, a sense of relief pouring through me, followed just a quick by a sense of overwhelming dread.

-I'm not dead. So what the hell am I? I got bit! I remember that very clearly, you don't wake up-wake up from a walker bit.

-You have to say something, they're going to kill you.

-I can't even feel my lips right now, what am I suppose to say!

- ANYTHING.

"D..D-Don't." I force the single word through my lips, and it's like a ghost might as well have sat down in the middle of where ever I am. I hear a few screams, some in fear and others in a curious way.

"How is she..?"

"I don't know, it's been hours."

"She never developed a fever or any symptoms.

The voices overwhelm me, and I have no idea what they're talking about, which is quickly driving me crazy, so I attempt, for the last time, to open my eyes. My lids are heavy, but eventually they remain open long enough for me to catch a few glimpses. I see a pure white room around me, flooded with bright, radiant light. The people around me don't look dirty like I'm so used to, no, they're wearing doctor scrubs oddly enough,

"Wh-w-where am.. I?" I whisper, looking to each of the faces for only a moment for the darkness returns, my eye lids shutting again.

"You're safe." Is all I hear before falling unconcious.


End file.
